


Nearly Headless No More

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, The Quidditch Pitch: Self Pleasure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-26
Updated: 2006-02-26
Packaged: 2018-10-27 08:41:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10805679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Even ghosts have fantasies.





	Nearly Headless No More

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes:

Betad by Elsie and reddwarfer. written for swtjemz

Characters: Nearly Headless Nick/Moaning Myrtle

* * *

Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington soared through the wall into his room, releasing a long, frustrated sigh. Being the ghost of Gryffindor house was no life for him. Day in and day out it was the same thing…drifting about witnessing the many splendors of Hogwarts, of which he was unable to partake.

The grand meals were bad enough, but to be subjected to these pretty young girls in their short, pleated skirts was simply torturous (and he knew a thing or two about being tortured). Was it just because he hadn’t had a _lively_ companion in over five centuries, or were those skirts getting shorter? Whichever it was, Sir Nicholas was randy as all get out.

He sank down into his chair, which, of course, was not actually _his_. He _owned_ nothing. It was merely _a_ chair in _the_ room in which he had been residing for the past five hundred plus years. There was one thing that belonged to him. Unfortunately, it belonged _only_ to him.

Settling back to relax, Nicholas untied the laces on his breeches and hose. He reached his hand inside, grabbing hold of his sole possession. He bemoaned the fact that he was doomed to an existence of looking, but never touching. However, looking was something that he did with abandon. Thinking of those quite skimpy skirts on witches who were far friendlier than those in his day, he began stroking himself languidly.

He loved the way the skirts of the Gryffindor girls rode up their thighs as they climbed through the portrait hole. He momentarily rued the fact that they still wore robes, but he couldn't complain much, because they frequently left them open and undone. His eyes slipped closed as he recalled the group of Hufflepuff girls he’d seen earlier. They had been giggling and whispering about which boys they wanted to snog most.

As much as Nick had a soft spot for the perky young girls of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, the girls in Slytherin sent shivers down his spine. They were known to walk around their dormitories in nothing more than their knickers. Over the years, he had snuck more than a few peeks at the saucy Slytherins when the Bloody Baron was not about. There were certain advantages to being a ghost after all...such as soaring, unbeknownst to all, into dormitories and under the tables in the Great Hall.

It was doing exactly this that, some fifty years ago, Nicholas had discovered the Ravenclaw girls’ naughty little secret. What had started as a dare, to his delight, had since turned into a house tradition. The seventh year Ravenclaw girls had to go sans panties for the entire first week of June. The ghosts of Hogwarts would spend the prior month offering gifts, each more elaborate than the last, to the Grey Lady in order to win her permission to sneak a peek or two. Unfortunately for Sir Nicholas, he hadn’t won this honor for the past two years. However, he had had the pleasure enough times that he was able to reflect on his memories whenever he wanted to.

Shedding his lower clothing, Nick took hold of himself more firmly. He stroked faster, more purposefully, becoming lost in his imagination.

“Why yes, young Miss, I would be delighted by your company,” he spoke out loud to the schoolgirl in his fantasy.

“Oooh,” replied a high-pitched voice directly behind him.

Nick turned his head quickly to see who was there. All at once he gasped, his head fell to the side, dangling by the half-inch of skin and sinew, which kept it attached to his body, and Moaning Myrtle let out an utterly delighted squeal.

His hands occupied with the task of shielding his bits from view, he was unable to set his head back straight.

Myrtle drifted around in front of Nicholas. Her eyes dropped to his lap immediately.

“It looks as though you need some help with your head, Sir Nicholas. Hmmm?” She batted her eyelashes and giggled flirtatiously.

“That would be quite appreciated, fine lady,” replied Nicholas, trying to muster as much dignity as he was able given the circumstances.

Giggling once more, Myrtle winked and floated downward.

“Miss, what exactly are you do--”

Myrtle’s warm breath ghosted over Nicholas’ knuckles as she whispered, “You’ll have to move your hands, won’t you.”

Nicholas did just this, gasping loudly as Myrtle instantly lowered her mouth over his long neglected cock.

“You were a Ravenclaw, were you not?” he moaned, petting her hair approvingly. Her mouth full, she simply nodded, glancing up at his still dangling head. “Ah, when exactly did you die, dear?”

Continuing her oral stimulation of the Gryffindor ghost, Myrtle lifted her skirt and winked.

Nicholas’ spirited moans echoed off the stone walls. “Ah…the first week of June, how fortunate.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  



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